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5 WILD GEESE 

AND OTHER POEMS 

BY 

ANNIE GRIM LEAVENWORTH 






Class 1 QOSC'W 

Book > Z-\55 w5 

COESRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



WILD GEESE AND OTHER POEMS 



Wild Geese 

and Other Poems 



By 
7 -ANNIE CRIM LEAVENWORTH 



NEW YORK 

JAMES T. WHITE & CO. 

1921 






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COPYRIGHT, 1921 

James T. White & Co. 



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To Mary A. Meyer 
With love and gratitude 



MAR 10192! 



WILD GEESE AND OTHER POEMS 



For permission to reprint many of the following 
poems grateful acknowledgments are due to the Cen- 
tury Magazine, Churchman, Farmer's Wife, Living 
Church, Lyric, Munsey's, People's Home Journal, 
Snappy Stories, Smith College Verse, Today's House- 
wife, Woman's Magazine, and other publications. 



CONTENTS 

WILD GEESE AND OTHER POEMS 

WILD GEESE 13 

WAYFARER 14 

FLAMES 15 

MINNOWBROOK l6 

SEA GULL l8 

THE CHANNEL 19 

THE VOICE OF THE MOUNTAIN 20 

SANCTUARY 21 

WIND AND SUN — IN SPRING 22 

THE MOCKING BIRD 23 

DOGWOOD 25 

FICKLE 26 

APRIL ECHOES 27 

SURSUM CORDA 28 

THREE WHO PASSED IN APRIL 2Q 

SILVERMINE 30 

SPRING AND FALL 2)2 

HONEYSUCKLE 33 

LOVE SONG 35 

MAY NIGHT 36 

A MIDSUMMER DAY DREAM 37 

ECHO 38 

BITTERSWEET 39 

PINES 40 

cat-tails 41 

vacation's end 42 



CONTENTS— Continued 

FAINTHEART 43 

YOUNG LOVE 44 

WELCOME 45 

IF LOVE WERE ALWAYS LAUGHTER 46 

THE CHALLENGE 47 

GOODBYE 48 

THE HEART OF SONG 49 

SHADOWS 50 

TO MY LOVE 51 

SYMPATHY 52 

KEEP ME FOR COMFORT 53 

THE BRIDE 54 

ENCORE 55 

WEARY .'. 56 

AFTER 57 

THE CROWNING GIFT 58 

FAREWELL 59 

FIRE FANCY 60 

FOREVER 6l 

OCTOBER 62 

THANKSGIVING 63 

REMEMBERING 64 

I'VE WOVEN ME NEW LOVES 65 

METAMORPHOSIS 66 

LULLABY . . 67 

THE LESSON 68 



CONTENTS— Continued 

TO MY DAUGHTER °9 

MUSIC 70 

THE EXILE 7 1 

WORKADAY 73 

THE TASKS 74 

THE CAGE 75 

THE LITTLE LANE OF LOVING 7& 

IN THE LONELY YEARS 77 

CARNIVAL AND OTHER POEMS 

CARNIVAL 8l 

SISTER OF CHARITY °5 

ASH WEDNESDAY &7 

IN LENT 88 

FROM THE SHADOW .4 89 

THE YOUNG TEACHER 9 1 

THE OLD TEACHER 9 2 

YE BLESSED 93 

HIS LOVING CUP 95 

HALF-FORGOTTEN 9° 

PENNY SONGS 97 

SONG 98 



WILD GEESE 

The wild geese flew to the South last night. 

I heard their honk as they steered them past, 
And my wild heart leaped to their arrow-flight; 

But the night was dark, and the geese fly fast. 

A bugle note through the windless sky — 

More clear, more loud, then more faint, more low. 

They left no trace I could follow by, 

For there's never a track where the wild geese go. 

And I was swept with a quick despair 
As fainter echoed their speeding calls, 

For their wings were swift on the pathless air, 
While my heart's wings beat against four gray 
walls. 



13 



WAYFARER 

O, I was born a gypsy 
And was shod in gypsy shoon 

When still I was a baby 
Babbling for the moon; 

And the wind that rocked my cradle- 
It sang a gypsy tune. 

O, the gypsy shoon have borne me 

To many a friendly door 
Where loving hearts would hold me 

To share their sheltered store; 
But I never could stay for hearing 

The song the night wind bore. 



14 



FLAMES 

The flames leap up the chimney 
And spurn the stolid logs 

They're whipping into ashes 
Between the dumb firedogs — 

The red flames, the gold flames, 
They flaunt their ragged togs. 

The flames leap up the chimney — 
They're swallowed in the dark. 

Its soot-throat gapes to catch them 
And leaves no slightest mark 

Of blue flame or red flame 
Or whisking golden spark. 

The flames die in the chimney; 

The fire dies in the night; 
The embers blink and crumble 

To ashes gray and white 
From red flames — poor dead flames- 

And flames of silver light. 



15 



MINNOWBROOK 

Minnowbrook — I never knew 
What a spell a name can brew 
Till I heard them tell of you. 

I can see the silver gleam 

Of your prattling mountain stream 

Flashing through my hazy dream. 

Minnowbrook — I hear the brawl 
Of your tumbling waterfall 
Hidden, half, in grasses tall. 

Alders bending close about 
Quiet pools where — not a doubt — 
One might catch a speckled trout. 

Minnowbrook — high flags that wade 
Where your shallows flecked with shade 
Harbor minnows unafraid. 

Then beneath the wooded hill 
Stands a lazy, log-hewn mill 
Whose slow wheel your waters fill. 

Minnowbrook — and can you know, 
As your lakeward way you go, 
All the beauties that you show? 



16 



Do you know the very thought 
Of your crystal course is fraught 
With a blessing magic-wrought ? 

Minnowbrook — I never knew 
What a spell a name can brew 
Till I heard them tell of you. 



17 



SEA GULL 

The great gray waves lift mountain-high 
And toss the huge ship on their breast. 

The tempest howls a wailing cry- 
Above the towering waters' crest. 

The mighty vessel shuddering swings 
While wakeful watch the lookouts keep; 

But a tiny gray bird folds its wings 
And cradles on the vast gray deep. 



18 



THE CHANNEL 

They played a giddy, ragtime thing 

In measure with the vessel's beat, 
And then a song with luring swing 

To time a Spanish dancer's feet; 
While those who heard laughed out to see 

The young folks frolic at its call; 
But to the Channel's history, 
Its legends and its mystery, 

They gave no thought at all. 

'Twas here, his courtiers' boast to shame, 

Canute once bade the waves be still; 
'Twas here ambitious Caesar came 

With Roman arms to work his will; 
And fathoms, fathoms deep below, 

In graves unnumbered and unwept, 
Where they had sunk long years ago 
O'erpowered by storm and earthly foe, 

Old Spain's grim galleons slept. 

But those aboard, what reckoned they 

Of Rome and Spain and British lore? 
They only saw the lighthouse ray 

Flash out protection from the shore; 
They only heard the merry band 

Blare music to the dancing waves; 
And wheeling gaily hand-in-hand, 
With hearts that could not understand, 

They danced o'er nations' graves. 



19 



THE VOICE OF THE MOUNTAIN 

Oh, dare you face eternal things 

That in my silence grow 
And feel my brushing angel-wings, 

You from the world below? 

Or can you, gazing down from high 

Upon the pigmy earth, 
Bid friends and race and goal goodby 

And die to second birth? 

Have you the courage to resign 
Your fiercely guarded store 

Of self, and make your spirit mine 
Till you are you no more? 

If this you dare, then come to me, 

Frail children of the clods; 
And though yourselves can nothing be, 

Myself can make you gods. 



20 



SANCTUARY 

Sunlight in the valley, 
A haze upon the hills; 

The wonderwoven beauty 
My heart with glory fills. 

No human tongue has spoken 
To bid my soul rejoice; 

Just in the haze, a Presence; 
And in the calm, a Voice. 



21 



WIND AND SUN— IN SPRING 

High, low — sigh, blow, — 

Hurry from East and West, 
Hurry from North and Southland, 

From valley and mountain crest. 
Whisper to every flower 

And tell to each folded leaf 
That summer is calling — calling, 

And life, at the most, is brief. 

Gleam, sun! Beam, sun! 

Smile on the sleeping earth. 
Waken its sluggish pulses 

To the joy of a green rebirth. 
Warm with your kiss the furrows 

And cheer every bud you meet 
With the faith of uncounted ages — 

That life, at its best, is sweet. 



22 



THE MOCKING BIRD 

The singin'est song that ever I heard 
Is sung in the spring by the mocking bird. 
He sits on a limb and just for fun 
Takes a heap of tunes and pours them into one, 
Gurgling them, and crying them, and rippling them, 

and trilling, 

Bubbling them, and whistling them, — twee, twee, 
twee! 
Seems as if the notes come out so fast they come 
a-spilling, 
Seems as if he's laughing and a-calling this to 
me, — 
"Ha, ha, ha! And a ho, ho, ho! 
"I might be a cat and I might be a crow — 
"You can't tell the difference, I know. 
"Look if you like, but you can't find me 
"Hid in this old persimmon tree." 

I pull in my mule and I look all around 
From the top of the tree to the top of the ground; 
Then comes a streak of white and gray 
And from 'way off yonder the song drifts back 
my way, 
Gurgling back, and crying back, and rippling back, 

and trilling, 

Bubbling back, and whistling back, — twee, twee, 
twee! 



23 



Seems as if the notes come out so fast they come a- 
spilling, 
Seems as if he's laughing and a-calling this to me, — 
"Ha, ha, ha! And a ho, ho, ho! 
"I might have been a cat and I might have been 

a crow — 
"Yon couldn't tell the difference, I know. 
"Blind Brother Mortal, couldn't you see 

"I was sitting in that old persimmon tree?" 



24 



DOGWOOD 

On still spring nights you can see them 

When there's a phantom breeze 
And the moonbeams slip through the shadows 

To join in their revelries — 
The little white ghosts of the dogwood 

Dancing among the trees. 

Silent the sleeping forest. 

Just from the brook a rare 
Murmur of restless dreaming 

As it moves in its bed; and there 
The little white ghosts of the dogwood 

Dance in the spring-sweet air. 

They thrill to a soundless music 

That trembles in pulsing bars, 
And never a note of discord 

Their rhythmical rapture mars, 
For the little white ghosts of the dogwood 

Dance to the song of the stars. 



25 



FICKLE 

You smile from off the eastern hill 
A promise you will not fulfill 

Upon your way; 
For sudden rains come pouring down 
And then you laugh to see us frown, 

O April day! 



26 



APRIL ECHOES 

April loves and April laughter, 
April songs, — and then soon after, 
April sorrows, April sighs, 
Rainbow gleams in April skies. 

Youth a-dream and Youth a-daring, 
Youth a-tiptoe to be sharing 
Life and happiness together 
In the quivering April weather. 

Glad the living, glad the going, — 
Gladder far the never knowing 
Whether joy or bitter sorrow, 
Dawns with faraway to-morrow. 

Ah, but you whose blood flows fleetest 
Cannot know we have the sweetest, 
Finest blessing — to remember 
Looking back from dim December. 



27 



SURSUM CORDA 

When April sunshine lingers 

On tender greening hills 
And roots reach thirsty fingers 
To April-showered rills, 

The birds that watch the miracle 
Pour forth their praises lyrical 
Like golden sunbeams captured 
By tiny throats enraptured, 
When April sunshine lingers 
On tender greening hills. 

When April showers patter 

On sunkissed swelling sod, 
No mortal grief can matter — 
Our hearts mount up to God. 

Though winterworn and faltering, 
We feel His love unaltering, 
Renew the pledge of life to us — 
That peace will come through strife to us, 
When April showers patter 
On sunkissed swelling sod. 



28 



THREE WHO PASSED IN APRIL 

Up the street and down the street 
And through the winding ways 

Shy Evening crept on tiptoe 
In robe of April haze; 

And two there were who walked with her 
Unseen by mortal gaze. 

The eyes of one outshone the sun 

As madly he did sing; 
And weary folk were heartened, 

For, soft as whispering, 
Upon their eyes in sweet surprise 

They felt the breath of Spring. 

And all the while, with wistful smile 

Both sad and fair to see, 
The other scattered incense 

That drifted far and free, 
And passersby, not knowing why, 

Kept tryst with Memory. 



29 



SILVERMINE 

An Allegheny glade I know 
Called Silvermine. 

A fitful forest path is led 
Along a brook's rough-pebbled bed 
By hundred mossy streamlets fed 

That drop their pearls like tinkling bells 
From rocky-sided, fern-grown dells 
Whose chime to rippling music swells — 
Up Silvermine. 

The hoary-headed mountains lean 
Their woody sides of shaded green 
To shelter close the magic scene, 

Enfolding it with silence rare 
That trembles on the pine-sweet air 
With echoing bird songs everywhere. 

And there you find among the rest 
The cardinal with flaming crest 
Has built his leafy hidden nest; 

And you can hear him from a tree 
Pour out his heart so merrily 
It makes you thrill in sympathy 
Up Silvermine. 



30 



There glossy laurels lightly fling 
Their loveliness each perfect spring 
In pink and white abandoning; 

And towering rhododendrons spread 
Their rosy foam high overhead 
In gleaming greenness garlanded, 

While straight-boled, stately tulip trees 
And wax magnolias catch the breeze 
That hums with eager honey bees, 

And blushing redbuds hide their glow 
In farflung dogwood's cooling snow. — 
A nook in Paradise I know — 
'Tis Silvermine. 



31 



SPRING AND FALL 

When from the hills the laughing rills 

O'er rocky barriers leaping 
With joyful shout come rushing out, 

Through quiet valleys sweeping; 
When from the earth in radiant birth 

The first brave blossoms springing 
Nod dainty heads from leafy beds, 
They set my heart a-singing, — 

Heigh ho for every growing thing! 

Come, welcome, lark and swallow! 
For spring is here to greet the year 
And summer soon will follow. 

When from the trees a madcap breeze 

Sets painted leaves a-swirling, 
And down the stream with sudden gleam 

Like fairy boats they're whirling; 
When o'er the land on every hand 

The purple mists are lying, 
And flowers lie dead within each bed. 
Ah, then my heart's a-sighing, — 

Sleep sweetly now, oh living things, 
Fly southward, lark and swallow, 
For fall is here to speed the year 
And winter soon will follow. 



32 



HONEYSUCKLE 

Welcome to you, rambling, fragrant, 
Wilding beauty, wayside vagrant, 
Draping emerald robes about you! 
Earth were barer far without you! 

Folk content with northern clime 
Never know you in your prime, — 
Never find your waxen riches 
Lavish flung o'er banks and ditches, — 
Never see the brookside bowers 
Hung with gold and ivory flowers 
Where your tangled foliage crushes 
Dogwood down — deep haunts for thrushes 
Nesting safe in dark seclusion 
'Neath your rioting profusion, — 
Never feel your sweet perfume 
Stealing on them in the gloom 
Of summer evenings from a thicket 
Shrill with cry of frog and cricket. 

Here how bounteous you lift 
Twin-borne goblets with your gift. 
Honeyed nectar offering 
Humming birds for banqueting! 
How you heap the billowed hedges, 
How you weave through marshy sedges 
Feathery blanket for a stream 
Babbling in a sluggish dream — ! 



33 



Missionary of the wild 
Spreading freshness undented 
In a friendly ministration 
Over blots of desolation — 
Where deserted cabins tumble, 
Where old forest monarchs crumble, 
Soft you spread your living pall 
Kindly covering their fall. — 

Honeysuckle, just a weed, 
Slighted, trampled on, indeed; 
Yet your loveliness I'll treasure 
With a tender, vivid pleasure; 
And as long as I remember 
I'll find summer in December 
While the honeysuckle twines 
'Round my heart its gypsy vines. 



34 



LOVE SONG 

I strolled beside the brooklet where the ripples sing 
And stopped awhile to listen to their whispering; 

When, sauntering there, I started up in glad sur- 
prise — 

'Twas just a bunch of bluets, but I saw your eyes! 

I rambled in the meadow where the grasses wave 
Their tufted heads in harmony with gesture grave; 

And while I loitered, pondering their graceful 
charms, 

A zephyr trembled past me, but I felt your arms! 

I wandered in the forest when the sun was low 
And daylight lingered, fondly seeming loath to go. 
I heard a wondrous lovesong made my heart re- 
joice, — 
I knew a woodthrush sang it, but 1 heard your 
voice! 

And everywhere I went I found my fate the same, 

The very leaves in rustling seemed to breathe your 

name. 

The reason for the fancy must, I know, be clear, — 

The miles are long between us; and I love you, 

Dear! 



35 



MAY NIGHT 

Across the dreaming air the whispered drift of 
apple bloom, — 
Sweet silver of girls' voices on the velvet of the 
night, 
With boys' low laughter like an old song echoing 
in the gloom, — 
And still as questing ghost, a vagrant moth with 
gleam of white. 



36 



A MIDSUMMER DAY DREAM 

A midsummer elf with a twinklesome eye 
Called gaily to me as a bee bore him by. 
(The day was in June, and my work was piled 
high.) 

"Come out! Oh, come out for a frolic!" cried he. 
"All the world's making holiday. Come out and 

see!" 
(My work was piled high as he beckoned to me.) 

"The golden-eyed daisies your fortune shall tell; 
"We'll find four-leaf clovers to work you a spell." 
(He beckoned to me as he tempted so well.) 

"And you shall lie soft on a green, grassy bed 
"Where blossoming trees a cool canopy spread." 
(He tempted so well; but I shook my grave head.) 

"And light I will perch on a blackberry spray 
"And swing as the vine in the breezes shall sway." 
(I shook my grave head; but my heart whispered, 
"Yea!") 

"While a dim-dainty dream song all gently I'll croon 
"That the fairies have sung at the wane of the 

moon." 
(My heart whispered, "Yea"; for the day was in 

June.) 

So, heeding my heart, though my work was piled 

high, 
I followed the elf with the twinklesome eye. 

37 



ECHO 

The echo of a love song drifting in the air 

Passed a wayside briar. A snowy bloom was there 

Opening to the sunlight, frail and faintly fair. 

The echo brushed its petals, and the blossom 

swelled with pride 
As quivering words of passion the tender music 

sighed; 
And the rosebud flushed to hear them, but the echo 

— echo — died. 



38 



BITTERSWEET 

Candle light and tea time 

And red coals glowing, 
And through the boughs of leafless trees 

A gusty wind blowing. 

Tea time and firelight 

Where dream and shadow meet, 
And on the high white mantel 

A twist of bittersweet. 

Firelight and bittersweet 

And candles glowing; 
And through the stillness of my heart 

A gust of memory blowing. 



39 



PINES 

I have said goodnight to my pine trees 
With the moon between their boughs 

Where high on their nests and dreaming 
The gray-winged wood doves drowse. 

I have climbed to my bedroom window 
And leaned once more to hear 

The rustle of shifting needles 

That the darkness brings more near. 

For the pine trees' whispered music 
Is more than the songs of men 

To quiet my troubled spirit 
And cleanse my soul again. 



40 



CAT-TAILS 

A sunny, windswept hill, that cool 
Swift shadows touch and leave; 

And on its top a little pool 
Where braiding cat-tails weave. 

They weave a shifting web of dream 

For me who watch beside — 
All silver with the softened gleam 

Of glories that have died. 

And I remember, with a sigh 
As soft as summer weather, 

How while we watched them, you and I, 
They wove our hearts together. 



41 



VACATION'S END 

And so it's ended. Shall we stoop to say 
Goodby in poor convention's threadbare way 
Of taking leave? Ah, no; but clasp my hand 
And smile your parting, for I understand; 
And eyes express what words can never reach. 
Why mar the moment with a waste of speech? 

We've walked together, laughed together — well, 
Perhaps we've loved a little. Who can tell? 
I know my heart beats sadder now to go 
Because of you, and I am glad 'tis so; 
But neither would we linger, although true 
Within your gaze I read a sorrow, too. 

It's over; and we leave among the flowers 
Our friendship woven out of sunny hours — 
A tribute to the summer; then once more 
We take the separate paths we trod before 
Until your face, blurred by each lengthening mile 
Grows to be just the memory of a smile. 



42 






FAINTHEART 

You do not guess my tenderness, 
And I'll not tell. Oh, no! 

It's very queer to me, my dear, 
The way such matters go. 

If you would dare and not despair, 
Whene'er you look my way 

You must surmise, for with my eyes 
I tell you every day. 

But man must sue and boldly woo 

To win a maiden, so 
My heart I'll hide while you decide, 

But — why are men so slow? 



43 



YOUNG LOVE 

Our talk flies 'round the truth of it 

Like moths about a flame. 
We glory in the youth of it 

But never give it name 
Lest we should dim the gleam of it, 

For, like a frightened bird, 
The magic and the dream of it 

May vanish at a word. 



44 



WELCOME 

The dewy, blue-eyed violets, 

They smiled at me to-day. 
They've not been here the whole long year 

That you have been away. 

But now that you are coming home, 

Their fairy faces glow! 
The dewy-eyed blue violets — 

I wonder if they know! 



45 



IF LOVE WERE ALWAYS LAUGHTER 

If love were always laughter 

And grief were always tears, 
With nothing to come after 

To mark the waiting years, 
I'd pray a life of love for you 
Sent down from heaven above for you, 
And never grief come near to you 
To spread its shadow, Dear, to you, — 

If love were always laughter 
And grief were always tears. 

But grief brings often laughter, 

And love, — ah, love brings tears; 
And both leave ever after 

Their blessings on the years; 
So, I, Dearheart, would sue for you 
A mingling of the two for you, 
That grief may lend its calm to you 
And love may send its balm to you, 
Since grief brings often laughter 
And love brings often tears. 



46 



THE CHALLENGE 

Because your smile is shining 
Across the glooms of grief, 

I can be brave, divining 
Your will to bring relief. 

For like a lark, dawn-greeting, 
That soars in song the while, 

So leaps my courage, meeting 
The challenge of your smile. 



47 



GOODBY 

Do not say that when I go, 
Bitterly your tears will flow. 
Do not moan that you will be 
Desolate for loss of me, 
For my spirit could not sleep 
Knowing you remain to weep. 

Rather promise that in spring 
You will walk unsorrowing 
Through the paths our lovetime knew 
While I yet remained with you; 
And that you will gladly say, 
"Here we strolled on such a day 
"When she let me touch her hair, 
"Brush it with my lips, — and there 
"Sat we such an afternoon 
"Listening to woodbird's tune." 

Then where valley lilies bloom, 
Close your eyes. Their dear perfume 
Freighted with my love, will bring 
Me to you, remembering. 



48 



THE HEART OF SONG 

The hunters sing on the mountain, 
The reapers sing in the valley, 
The old men doze by the hearth fire; 
But oh, the weary day! 

Of love they sing on the mountain, 
Of love they sing in the valley, 
Of love they dream by the hearth fire; 
But oh, my love's away. 



49 



SHADOWS 

I never learned until you taught me, Dear, 
To find the subtler beauties of the year. 
I never dreamed until you told me so 
That there are shadows even on the snow. 

The sunrise filled my heart with ecstasy, 
The glory of the sunset blinded me; 
Till, dazzled by the glitter and the glow, 
I could not see the shadows on the snow. 

I did not guess upon that rapturous day 
That there could come a parting to our way; 
But when at eventide you turned to go, 
Ah, then I saw the shadows on the snow! 

Since then I've learned to love them more and 
more, 
The sunrise and the sunset; but before 
Them all, the dearest treasure that I know, 
Most precious, are the shadows on the snow. 



50 



TO MY LOVE 

I do not know why the world moves slowly 

When you are not here. 
I only know that my life lies wholly 

In your presence, Dear. 

I do not know why your voice is sweeter 

Than the breath of Spring. 
I only know that my heart leaps fleeter 

To its answering. 

I do not know, for I cannot measure 

What you bring to me. 
I only know it's a priceless treasure 

For eternity. 



5J 



SYMPATHY 

Peachblow time! And I would stay 

To help the world make holiday; 
But in my heart it is not spring 
Because I find you sorrowing. 

Dear, I would mourn the springtime through 

If only I could comfort you; 
And I would barter all of May 
If I could only make you gay. 



52 



KEEP ME FOR COMFORT 

Keep me for comfort 
When the world's gray, 

When the young sunlight 
Filters away. 

When the night darkens, 

Threatening harms, 
I shall be watching 

With open arms. 

Come when you need me, 

Early or late, 
Keep me for comfort, — 

Meanwhile I wait. 



53 



THE BRIDE 

With eager hands I bring them — 
My crystal girlhood dreams; 

Like April rain I fling them 

Before your love's bright beams. 

Oh, have you power to kindle 
Their hidden rainbow fire: 

Or must I watch them dwindle 
In the flame of your desire? 



54 



ENCORE 

If I should die before the morn, 
Let not love's rose my bier adorn; 
For how could I at rest e'er be, 
Remembering, Dear, my loss of thee? 

But drowsy poppies lay thereon — 

Sweet symbols of oblivion — 
That all my raptures dead and past 
I may forget and sleep at last. 



55 



WEARY 

I am so tired, God! A little space 
To rest from loving or I perish! See — 

There burns no mark of anguish on my face, 
But all my soul is torn with agony! 

I still could soothe me were it not for this — 
That one who walks beside me must not know 

Or fail to find within my daily kiss 

The joy a loyal heart still strives to show. 

I am so tired! All the songs of spring 

Beat down like brazen hammers on my brain; 

Yet for his sake I force my lips to sing 

Lest they should cry my love-begotten pain. 

But wood doves calling from a budded tree 
Bring all the woes of all the world to me. 



56 



AFTER 

The garlands I wove you, Love, to wear, 

Are turned to chains to bind me. 
Your face that dazzled because so fair 

Is blurred by the tears that blind me. 

My heart beat warm all the throbbing night, 

Secure in your love's enfolding; 
But when I woke in the dawn's dim light - 

'Twas only a dream I was holding. 

I dreamed, "Love brings me a crown, I know, 
"Of joy for my heart's adorning." 

'Twas a crown indeed, but a crown of woe 
I wore in the gray of morning. 



57 



THE CROWNING GIFT 

He asked of me, his promised wife, 
"What is the crowning gift of life?" 

And I, rejoicing that I knew, 

Exulted, "You!" 

We learn so much as years unfold! 

My soul now asks that question old 
And I reply with eyes grown dim, 
"My love of him, my love of him!" 






58 



FAREWELL 

My arms would close enfold you 
If I could bind you so; 

But if I wished to hold you, 
I had to let you go. 

The bird with fettered pinion 
Will pine within the nest; 

And so in love's dominion — 
But — birds come home to rest. 



59 



FIRE FANCY 

Goodnight, Dearheart. — The fire dies down 
In dwindling heaps of gold and brown 
And gray — so still, I scarcely hear 
The crackling sparks as I bend near. 

Out through the night a spark of thought 
And love for you flies, warmly fraught 
With tenderness. — Say, feel you aught? 

Or can it be no sign appears 
To signal you my joys or tears? 
Have we lost touch across the years? 



60 



FOREVER 

One boon I prayed Thee, Lord, to give- 
One little boon— that Love might live. 

Hear now, O Lord, my sadder cry 
And pity me. — Love cannot die! 



6l 



OCTOBER 

Once when the maples had lit crimson fires, 
Once when the oaks spread the altar with gold, 

And the temple of Autumn with evergreen spires 
Was reared on the hills and the plains as of old, 

Worshipping, childlike, great Nature, the mother, 
Letting our hearts teach our spirits the way, 

Lightly we lingered there, I and one other, 
Draining the wonder-wine out of the day. 

Roaming just now in a useless endeavor 
Only to dream he was there by my side, 

Met me a maid singing, "Love lives forever." — 
Heart o' me, heart o 'me! What was it died? 






62 



THANKSGIVING 

I cannot thank Thee for the grief 
That bowed my breaking heart, 

I cannot praise Thee for the curse 
That made me one apart. 

My ■ spirit shudders still to feel 
The burden that it bears; 

And sad my soul walks, sorrowing 
Beneath the pall it wears. 

But yet I worship at Thy feet, 

I bless Thee and adore; 
For Thou hast left the memory 

Of all that went before. 



63 



REMEMBERING 

I would still remember 
All the ways we went 

Through that glad September 
When our souls were blent. 

I would always treasure 
Words you used to say — 

Little words whose measure 
In their music lay. 

Once again in dreaming 
I would see your eyes, 

Tenderness outstreaming 
Over all disguise. 

Dearest dear, your leaving 
Broke my heart; and yet 

Even this, my grieving, 
I would not forget. 



64 



I'VE WOVEN ME NEW LOVES 

I've woven me new loves 
To warm my heart awhile. 

The old love flashed like shining Truth 
Flame-fashioned from the web of Youth ; 
And when its glow enfolded me, 
My spirit danced for very glee. 
But I awoke one wintry morn 
To find the golden garment torn ; 
And now, alas, forevermore 
I go more softly than before. 

My golden gown is gray, 

But I have learned to smile, 
For I've woven me new loves 

To warm my heart awhile. 



65 



METAMORPHOSIS 

Love whispered, "I will be your guide 
"And friend through life, whate'er betide." 
I, childlike, turned this love to see, 
And lo, my mother spoke to me 1 

I walked through spring-green fields and heard 
The mating song of many a bird. 
Love called to me. In glad surprise 
I saw a youth with burning eyes. 

Years passed. I went a woman's way, 
And sorrows came as sorrows may. 
Then love looked up once more and smiled: 
It was a child — a little child ! 



66 



LULLABY 

The twilight is filled with the flutter of wings 

Of birds flying homeward on high — 
The robin on yon elm bough twitters and sings, 

"Oh, lullaby, Baby, oh, by!" 

The locust comes out and the katydid sings, 

"Goodby, sunny daylight, goodby." 
A moth flutters past, and the message he brings 

Is, "Lullaby, Baby, oh by!" 

The sunset glow fades and the daytime is done; 

And the stars from their home in the sky 
Twinkle down the same message to my little one, 

"Oh, lullaby, Baby, oh by!" 

The child on my bosom is quiet at last, 

The soft eyelids curtain each eye, 
And all now is still, for the sandman has passed 

Saying, "Lullaby, Baby, oh by!" 



67 



THE LESSON 

My mother taught me all her lore — 

And she was very wise; 
I cherished what she said, and more 

I fathomed in her eyes — 
Of patience and of love a store, 

And brave self-sacrifice. 

I cherished what she said, and tried 

To follow carefully 
Because I hoped with humble pride 

To be as good as she — 
As tender and as glorified 

By strong simplicity. 

I thought the lesson I'd divined, 
But very strange it was to find 
How small a part I'd understood 
Until I, too, reached motherhood. 



68 



TO MY DAUGHTER 

My mother and I dreamed different dreams. 

Oh, well I know that it was so. — 
She used to grieve to have me leave 

The prize she'd toiled for long ago — 
The woman she had failed to be 
But looked to find fulfilled in me. 

Now you and I dream different dreams ! 

It's hard to see how it can be; 
For Life gives you, if you but knew, 

What seems the highest boon to me; 
And yet you dare so lightly wear 
The crown I find so dazzling fair! 

Mother and child! How strange it seems— 
One verv flesh with alien dreams! 



69 



MUSIC 

I made me a song of the joy of my youth, 

A song brimming over with laughter; 

And proudly I sang it, and gaily, forsooth, 

And waited for praise to come after. 

My mother but said when the singing was done, 
"Not the smallest brown bird but can sing in the 
sun." 

I made me a song of the strength of my years. 

All hushed was the sound of my singing, 
For softly I crooned to the tune of the tears 
That Grief from my heartstrings was wringing. 
My mother heard proudly the wistful refrain — 
" 'Tis only brave women press music from pain." 



70 



THE EXILE 

I followed where he led me, 
I followed down the valley 
Past dogwood all a-blossom 
And buzzing wild with bees. 

My lover said, "Down yonder — " 
As sweet his tone grew, fonder — 
"Our lowland home lies yonder 
"In richer scenes than these." 

But oh, my mountains, 
My gray Great Smoky Mountains, 
My sleepy southern mountains 
Held golden memories ! * 

He brought me to a mansion 
Set deep in blooming orchards 
With gleaming fertile grain fields 
For many a level mile. 
The door is wreathed with roses, 
A garden wall encloses 
Fair flowers, but its posies 
Scarce win a single smile, — 

For oh, my mountains, 
My purple-pansied mountains, 
My laurel-laden mountains 
I'm wanting all the while! 



7? 



And now I have my baby. 
I bore him in the valley 
And cushioned him a cradle 
Where apple blossoms blow. 
And while I sit here sewing 
Beneath the petals' snowing, 
I watch the wee life growing 
And hot my tears will flow. 

For oh, my mountains, 
My cloudy-crested mountains, 
My soaring, sunswept mountains 
My child can never know ! 



72 



WORKADAY 

The little threads of Workaday 

Have woven me a veil, 
Until my glowing love of you 

Looks strangely gray and pale. 

The clinging threads of Workaday 
Have fashioned me a gown 

That presses on my throbbing heart 
And slows its beating down. 

The endless threads of Workaday 

Spin sandals for my feet, 
To hold them back from seeking you, 

That once were sure and fleet. 

Oh, what swift shears of Circumstance 

Can cut my spirit free 
Before the threads of Workaday 

Have hidden you from me? 



73 



THE TASKS 

I used to run with the red-gold sun 

And sing with the silver stars; 
My little gray tasks they hushed my song 

And fastened my door with bars. 

In crimson clad I danced as mad 
As a leaf when the fields are brown; 

My little gray tasks they stilled my feet 
And riddled my crimson gown. 

But when hope failed and my spirit quailed 

At the desolate days in view, 
'Twas the little gray tasks that took my hands 

And guided me safely through. 



74 



THE CAGE 

I never loved it all the years 

I had to stay, 
And often longed with bitter tears 

To get away. 

But now that I am free to go, 

It's very queer— 
The place that I have hated so 

Is almost dear. 



75 



THE LITTLE LANE OF LOVING 

All the roads to Sorrow 

Passed my cottage door — 
The royal Road of Broken Hearts 

And many roads more. 
So broad they were and shining, 

So travel-worn and plain, 
I scarcely marked among them 

A little green lane. 

For the little Lane of Loving 

Is a tangled, leafy maze, 
And many never find it 

For the wider ways. 

Down all the roads to Sorrow 

My questing heart has gone 
Across the wastes of Loneliness 

That stretch before the dawn. 
But when my grief was blackest 

And demon-wrought my pain, 
My tired spirit stumbled 

On a little green lane ! 

And this I found for comfort — 

Whatever road you roam, 
It's the little lane of Loving 

Leads to Happiness and Home 



76 



IN THE LONELY YEARS 

When we were young and high of heart, and knew 
The first sweet thrill of being comrades, when 

We snatched life's treasures as our simple due, — 
I thought I loved you then. 

And when dark sorrow bade us silent stand 
And stole the youth that nothing could restore, 

I felt the comfort of your clasping hand 
And loved you all the more. 

But now I wait alone, my spirit hears 
Beyond the stars your message. At the call 

Thrills my faint heart, and in my lonely years 
I love you most of all. 



77 



CARNIVAL AND OTHER POEMS 



CARNIVAL 

"Carnival, carnival, carnival !" 
Lo, how the spell ensnares us all, — 
Hark to the luring, laughing call ! 
Carnival time when the world goes mad, 
Mad with a joyance wildly glad, 
Mad with the springtime, dancing mad. 
Old King Carnival reigns once more, 
Reigns as he always has before 
With riot and laughter and fun galore; 
And crowding the streets, the people all 
Homage pay to King Carnival. 

There what marvelous sights you see — 
Little red devils in prancing glee 
Flirting with Sisters of Charity. 
Where else, now, could such scandal be? 
Pig-tailed Chinamen treading the lanes 
With cowboys fresh from the western plains, 
Who hold in check with careless reins 
Lean ponies with straw in their twisted manes; 
While courtly ladies in velvet dressed 
Throw kisses alike to the East and West 
As if uncertain which pleases best. 
Then a jingling fool and a poet or two 
Go waltzing together the long street through. 
A combination you don't find new? 
Well, it's all, you know, in the point of view. 



81 



The wine in the air makes our pulses haste; 
And there's other wine that won't go to waste, 
For we drink both kinds with impartial taste. 
Wine, did I say? The thought's not bad! 
I know where there's plenty and good to be had. 
There's a warm, bright room where the tables stand, 
And the glasses clink, and a misty band 
Blares smoky ragtime across the blur 
Of the bustle and laughter and restless stir. 
This is the way. — Come, don't demur. 

Look out! There's paper all over the floor; 
It tangled my feet as I passed the door; 
And confetti and bright-hued cotton balls 
Fly thick through the smoke-hung, man-crammed halls 
In answer to challenging, jesting calls. 

That woman we passed in the street outside, 
With the faded face and the eyes that have died, — 
Did she ever drift with the festive tide 
And flaunt her youth in her wealth of pride? 
Away with the hag! What place has she 
In the fun-flushed ranks of our revelry? 
Oh, why did we turn aside to see 
Her haunting face with its poverty? 
Come, drown the sight in a glass with me! 

Yes, steal a kiss of the waitress there, 
With the dancing eyes and the tousled hair, — 



82 



It's a hundred to one that she'll not care — 
They're doing it 'round you everywhere, 
For in love and — carnival — all is fair. 

Who was it wrote with an instinct wise 
Of a "barmaid's pink ribbon Paradise"? 
This poor little waif with the questing eyes 
Is finding it now, I half surmise; 
And you are the angel, in slight disguise, 
Who lifts her up to her tinsel skies. 
And after? 

It's only in fun, you say? 
She's a fool if she takes it another way, 
For carnival courtships never stay? 
Ah, well; but there's always the price to pay. 

But hark! That shuddering sound of gloom 
That comes like a voice from the open tomb 
And wails its way through the swarming room! 
The laughter sinks in a gasping breath 
As if it were suddenly faced by death! 

Of course! I'm an ass to feel a shock! 
King Carnival's dead— it's twelve o'clock 
And they're bringing his body through the hall 
To hold the funeral before us all. 
They'll preach a sermon above him here, 
Then lay him to rest for another year ; 
And the wails are mocks as if to mourn 



83 



As along through our midst the "corpse" is borne. 

It's only a joke, — why look forlorn? 

Come, fill your glass and we'll drink him deep, 

With carefree hearts we'll drink him sleep 

Till he comes next year the feast to keep. 

Why, the girl, there! Look! Does she really weep? 



84 



SISTER OF CHARITY 

Sister, thou, of charity, 
Did thy spirit's rarity 

Earth's poor sweetness cloy? 
Did angelic, lyrical 
Echoes like a miracle 

Purge out human joy? 

Did thine eyes, adoringly 
Turned to heaven imploringly 

Find such wonders there 
That thine heart, enraptured, 
Burst its earth bonds, captured 

By a faith more fair? 

Or was Life unkind to thee; 
Did its ways seem blind to thee, 

Dangerous and slow? 
Turned thy sun to showering 
Till thy trouble, towering, 

Brought thy courage low? 

Didst thou taste of friendlessness, 
Feel the bitter endlessness 

Of unanswered love 
Till thy soul despairingly, 
Blindly and uncaringly, 

Turned its cry above? 



85 



To thine eyes unfaltering 
Came that peace unaltering 

From a heavenly strand; 
Or the feeble vanity 
Of our frail humanity 

Canst thou understand? 

"Sister," thou, in name alone 
If 'twas heaven's claim alone 

Called thy soul from men; 
But if earth holds part of thee, 
Truly, in the heart of thee 

Art thou sister then. 



86 



ASH WEDNESDAY 

We scatter ashes in our hearts 
And strive to do Thy will; 

With serious thoughts we fill our minds 
And bid light joys be still. 

But let us not forget, Dear Lord, 

In these sad, solemn hours, 
That Thou who diedst on Calvary 

Art God who made the flowers. 

And when glad Easter waves her bloom 
Beneath spring's laughing skies, 

From out the ashes of dead sin 
May perfect love arise. 



87 



IN LENT 

The light-o'-love young hours 
That frolicked through the day 

In diadems of flowers — 
How dear they were and gayl 

Now, still as gray-cowled brothers 
The sad hours shuffling pass, 

Each one like all the others, 
Droning a mumbled mass. 



88 



FROM THE SHADOW 

O you with happier love-lives, 

Have pity on our night 
Who grope with blinded fingers 

That never feel the light, 
And stagger helpless onward 

In hopeless hope of sight! 

You cannot know the shadows 
That crouch about our way, — 

You, with the sun of loving 
To warm your lifelong day. 

You cannot guess the spectres 
That in the darkness stray. 

Our love has turned to ashes 

But still we stumble on 
And clutch with anguished fingers 

At what we know is gone. 
Oh, sharp the bitter briars 

Our feet have trod upon! 

O you with happier love-lives, 
Withhold from us your scorn 

Because our laugh rings hollow, 
Because our souls are worn. 

We laugh to spite the ghost-shapes 
Of frightened conscience born. 



89 



You cannot know the shadows 
We evermore must meet — 

The ghost of murdered honor, 
The souls of all things sweet, 

The shuddering souls of sorrows 
That dog our dragging feet ! 

Our love has turned to ashes, 
But still we crave the light; 

And we would leave our sinning 
If only, oh! we might! 

O you with happier love-lives, 
Have pity on our night ! 



90 



THE YOUNG TEACHER 

So young she stands and slenderly, 

So overyoung for toiling — 
A smudge of chalk dust on her cheek, 

Its powder on her hair. 
She watches them so tenderly, 

The children at their moiling 
Day in, day out, all through the week— 

So weary, but so fair. 

Her voice grows stern to chasten them 

That should be light with laughter, 
And in her eyes there seems to stir 

A far-off, wistful glow; 
But swift she smiles to hasten them 

Who linger, yearning after 
The budding motherhood in her 

They love but cannot know. 



91 



THE OLD TEACHER 

Other women's children have drained her of her youth, 
Left her old and spent — and all alone, 

Trampled on her beauty in their daily search for truth, 
With oh, so little loving to atone! 

Other women's children have fed them from her brain, 
Learned from her their code of wrong and right, 

With scarce a word of gratitude to ease her spirit's 
strain ; 
And she is weary waiting for the night. 

Other women's children have nagged away her heart, 

Left an empty aching in its place — 
A longing for her motherhood that never had a start; 

But she has been a mother to the race! 



92 



YE BLESSED 

blessed, you whose dead lie still 
In quiet rows asleep ! 

They never haunt your sorrowing 
Or come to watch you weep. 

My dead, they wander up and down 

Like living folk, on earth; 
They greet me in the marketplace, 

They sit beside my hearth. 

1 dare not sob and stain my eyes 
For fear that they might see, 

Because I know my pain would grieve 
Their dead hearts bitterly. 

But I must smile and go my way 

With brave, uplifted head; 
For those I mourn still walk with me, 

'Tis but their loves are dead. 

They greet me in the marketplace 

Or sit my hearth beside; 
And no one watching us, but me, 

Could dream that they had died. 

I see their spirits change and watch 
Their hearts that turn to stone, — 

Those hearts that but a breath ago 
Beat warm against my own. 



93 



But bitterest of all the pangs, 
And bitter more and more! 

This sight kills even the memory 
Of what they were before. 

So blessed, you whose dead lie still 

In quiet graves apart, 
For you can keep them as they were, 

Remembered in your heart! 



94 



HIS LOVING CUP 

He won you with the keen, young-bodied joy 
Of budding manhood. In the hot-fought race 
He gloried at the cruel wracking pace 

That challenged all his strength. Without alloy 

The passion of his striving. — Glowing boy! 
Then, with the victor-flush still on his face, 
He came, half shy, yet more than proud to place 

Within my hands his valor-boughten toy. 

Now flower-filled you stand before me here 
And stir my solitude with dreams of him. 
So beautiful he was! It seems, in truth, 
Your clear-lined beauty brings him very near; 
And in the blossoms nodding from your brim 
I find the treasure of his fragrant youth. 



95 



HALF-FORGOTTEN 

You that have lingered in twilight lands — 
Lands where the listening silence sings — 

Have you felt their touch on your brow and hands, 
The touch of the half-forgotten things? 

Musing alone till the dim day grew 

Misty with vague rememberings, 
Have you seen the wavering, wistful crew — 

The ghosts of the half-forgotten things? 

Loves long dead and friendships cold — 
Hark to the whispering of their wings, 

Wafting you back, as the day grows old, 
Dreams of the half- forgotten things ! 



96 



PENNY SONGS 

If I could coin my heart's blood 
To globes of golden song 

And sell them for a penny 
The public streets along, 

Say, would you buy a ballad 

To help me in my need? 
Or would you turn your face away 

Who made my heart to bleed? 



97 



SONG 

Oh, the golden dreams 

I dreamed in days gone by! 
Oh, it hardly seems 

That dreamer could be I ! 

Dead, like shining beads, 

My golden dreams are strung 

On a string of silver songs 
I sang when I was young. 



9« 



